Love in the Halls of Pediatric Oncology
by onlycullensforme
Summary: Nothing worthwhile is ever easy. Pediatric oncologist Bella Swan reunites with childhood friend and cancer survivor Edward Cullen. Follow their journey through life's triumphs and tragedies. Love. Laughter. Tears. AH/AU/Canon couples/a bit OOC
1. Credo

**Stephenie Meyer owns all recognizable characters. I just want to take them on a new ride.

* * *

**Miracles do happen.

If there is one thing my medical training has taught me, it is this simple fact. I have stood before distraught parents and told them as gently as possible that their child is going to die slowly and painfully only to see that child go into remission and never have a relapse. I have witnessed firsthand the silent strength of terminally ill children. I know all the signs of their courage as intimately as the signs of the diseases they suffer.

This knowledge simultaneously empowers and paralyzes me as I watch my first and greatest miracle sleep. He was one of two warriors against childhood cancer who made me who I am today, although I have yet to tell him that. I should do that. Soon. My medical specialty drove me back to religion and when I found it again, I had prayed that my best childhood friend—though we knew each other only for a summer—had survived what had likely been a losing battle. On days when that prayer was too much to offer, I amended my request to an easy, peaceful death. The green-eyed boy with the crooked smile deserved at least that much.

That green-eyed boy had grown into the devastatingly beautiful man in my bed. If I didn't believe in God or miracles before, I do now. Though bald when I knew him that summer, his head now sports a stunningly silky bronze mop that never stays in place. I can't resist brushing a few hairs off of his forehead, relishing in the smoothness of his skin. Looking at him now, you'd never know he had been excruciatingly ill. Twice.

My cell phone beeps and I pull my hand away.

"Mmm. Bella. Don't stop."

"Edward...." He grunts at my protest and, with his eyes still closed, reaches out, grabs my hand, and shoves it back into his thick hair.

I have to smile as he smiles lazily, contentedly, while I brush my fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.

"I love you." I whisper, knowing he will hear me.

His eyes open and immediately focus on me. The left corner of his mouth slides into my favorite crooked grin. He reaches out and tangles his hand into my hair to pull me closer. I take a deep breath as his lips meet mine. I sink into the kiss and his embrace as he impatiently pulls the blankets away from him and settles me on top of him instead. He cradles my face as if it is the most precious thing in the world while his tongue gently sweeps across my lips, seeking entrance. I shove away the thoughts of morning breath and open to him. He rolls gently and braces himself on his elbows so as not to crush me into the bed. Now is the time for sweet and gentle, not frenzied and rough, though both are pleasant.

Just as I am running out of air, Edward gently disengages from my lips and trails kisses down my jaw to the hollow beneath my ear.

"I love you, too, my Bella." He kisses my earlobe, then pulls back to look at me. He smirks as I try to regain my composure and fail.

"That's not fair," I murmur.

"Sorry, love." His voice is repentant and I can't stop my smile. "You're just too irresistible. Especially at...," he glances at the clock, "seven-thirty in the morning on a Saturday?" His teasing smile fades and his green eyes spark with concern. "What's wrong, Bella?"

"A woman can't wake up her beautiful husband just for fun?"

"You can wake me up for fun anytime you want," Edward replies with a smirk that doesn't meet his eyes. "This is something else. I can tell."

I nod and pull him down into my arms. He comes willingly and readjusts our position so that I am tucked into his side, his chin on my head.

"My doctor called. My blood tests are back." _Please don't ask me how long I've been waiting to talk to you_.

His arms tighten reflexively. If there is anything that Edward fears, it is my pain.

"What did she say?"

I take a few deep breaths. I know what I believe. I don't know what he believes.

"Edward. Do you believe in miracles?"

* * *

_A/N: I'm back, in case you missed me. I don't have a regular posting schedule but I will try to come up with one. This one will take a while to develop, but I wanted to get something out there. Though not necessary, reviews are lovely and very much appreciated. I'd like to know if I should continue this storyline or end it as a really short one-shot. I'm fine either way. Thanks for reading. --ocfm  
_


	2. Gratia plena

**Five years earlier...**

**Bella Swan  
**

Children are resilient. Adults… not so much. Maybe it's because we see too much as we grow older. Maybe it's because we remember what it was like when we were children and we know that we can never go back. Maybe it's because we start to understand mortality—the unavoidable fact that, someday, sooner or later, we will die. If we are particularly fortunate, there will be people who mourn us. I have attended too many funerals where I could count the attendants on one hand. Sometimes I was the only finger I could count on.

I knew going into medical school what my specialty would be despite the generous offers from other departments and horrified gasps from colleagues. They said I was wasting my talent on "cancer kids" and that I would undoubtedly burn out in less than five years.

"All you'll see is sickness and death, Dr. Swan," my attending physician, Dr. Banner, insisted when I met him on my first day.

"With all due respect, sir, the entire medical profession is about sickness and death. I'll be fine."

"These are children, Bella. Very sick children," he warned.

I smiled as I shrugged on my lab coat and slung my stethoscope over my neck.

"I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing."

Dr. Banner nodded and smiled to himself. "I'll be at the admitting desk. Take your time. We'll start with rounds."

I nodded and placed my purse in my locker after removing a small envelope. I waited until Dr. Banner was out of the room before removing two pictures. One was a recent picture of me and my dad, Charlie. The other was of an eight-year-old version of me with a ten year old boy. Even then he was taller than I was. We had our arms around each other and were smiling for all we were worth. My eyes were drawn to his—an emerald green I hadn't seen the equal to in twenty years—and the spark in them, mirrored by his dazzling crooked smile. We were both dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, but he wore a fedora hat with a toy bullwhip coiled at his right hip, just like his idol Indiana Jones. The hat covered his smooth bald head, the only indication that he was a very sick little boy, and he never took it off. He could actually handle the whip; I had a small scar over my left eye to prove it.

I smiled fondly as I traced the picture and carefully affixed it to my locker. Indiana Edward was my best friend at Seattle Children's Hospital that summer. I was there to visit my brother, Emmett, who was battling an unidentified tumor in his back. We stayed at the Ronald McDonald House, and I was often left to my own devices under the "supervision" of the House workers. I spent a lot of time reading books that were too advanced for me and became proficient at pinball-mainly because it was free and I didn't get dizzy playing it like I did the other video games. I ate Fruity Pebbles for breakfast, lunch, and then dessert after a hamburger Happy Meal for dinner. Charlie never gave me grief for my nutrition then, though Emmett did when he found out what I was eating every day.

I shook my head from the memories and closed my locker, wondering whatever came of Indiana Edward, hoping he survived and was happy. And if he had not survived, I prayed his death had been easy.

When I made my way out of the staff lounge, Dr. Banner showed me around the admitting area. He made a fuss over the organization of the charts, then selected a stack for morning rounds.

"Our inpatient care is heavier now than it has been for a while. I'll introduce you around and you can acquaint yourself with the files for the next couple of days. We take referrals from most of the Pacific Northwest; if it comes across your desk, handle it in the best way possible. Sometimes you won't be able to see the patient. All you'll see is test results. Sometimes we get a referral when it's too late. Are you sure you want to proceed?"

"Dr. Banner. I have wanted to do this since I was eight years old. You're not telling me anything I haven't heard before. Please, let's get to work."

"Of course, Dr. Swan. I had to try one more time. Our first patient is Grace…." I listened to him tell me about the little girl as we made our way to her room. Grace Whitlock was a very sick five year old, having been recently diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. The good news was that she had presented in the low risk group, allowing us more options for treatment. Her most recent blood count showed her white count at 37,000, though that was up from 30,000 only a month previous.

"Grace is a charmer," Dr. Banner warned as we stood outside her room. "She doesn't like to take her medicine and she can get away with murder with those eyes of hers. It nearly breaks the nurses' hearts to inject her. Fortunately, her uncle knows how to handle her."

"Not her father?"

"For all intents and purposes, her uncle is her father."

"I see."

"Shall we?"

I smiled and Dr. Banner opened the door to Grace's room.

A wiry man with thick blond hair and deep blue eyes looked up as we entered the room. He smiled and put his fingers to his lips to warn us to be quiet.

"Ah, she's finally sleeping," Dr. Banner said softly. The other man nodded and exaggeratedly wiped at his forehead. I couldn't help my smile.

"Mr. Whitlock , this is Dr. Swan. She just joined our staff and will be part of the team overseeing Grace's care."

Mr. Whitlock stood up from his chair beside Grace's bed and stepped over to me. He extended his hand and smiled broadly.

"Please, call me Jasper. I'm Grace's uncle. It's good to meet you, Dr. Swan."

"Bella," I corrected automatically. Jasper's smile broadened.

"I'm still glad to meet you."

I chuckled and looked at Grace's sleeping form. "Do you have a moment to talk, Jasper?"

Dr. Banner looked between us and smiled sadly.

"Sure." Jasper looked over Grace to make sure she was comfortable and still asleep, then drew the curtain around her.


End file.
